


all i see in my love is silver

by shell-heads (chocopies)



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, M/M, Mild/Implied Sexual Content, Roleplay, silver fox!tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 00:56:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16029671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocopies/pseuds/shell-heads
Summary: “Big fan of Steve Rogers?” a smooth voice comes to his right, startling him.“Sorry?” Steve answers dumbly, mind blanking at the captivating elegance of the man before him, a wine stem between his fingers and silver hair glimmering in the gallery’s showcase lights. His eyes lift from the painting before them to meet Steve’s, such a bright electric blue that it sends sparks down Steve’s skin in inappropriate ways, tingling and sensitive at the subtle once-over he earns from the unfairly attractive stranger.“You’ve been staring at this for ten minutes,” the stranger says amusedly, mouth curling up into a devastating smirk Steve really wishes he hadn’t seen in such a public venue. “You’re either completely lost, or you really like that piece. Seeing as you’ve made a stop at every other Steve Rogers’ piece in the gallery, I’m assuming you’re a fan of his work.”“Ah, well, that is,” Steve stammers, feeling ridiculously hot under the collar, "I'm...invested in his work."Where Steve is a not-so-starving artist who thinks men as hot as Tony Stark really shouldn't be allowed in public looking the way they do, and Tony feels the same about muscle-building artists.





	all i see in my love is silver

“Big fan of Steve Rogers?” a smooth voice comes to his right, startling him and turning his head automatically to search for its owner.

“Sorry?” Steve answers dumbly, mind blanking at the captivating elegance of the man before him, a wine stem between his fingers and silver hair glimmering in the gallery’s showcase lights. His eyes lift from the painting before them to meet Steve’s, such a bright electric blue that it sends sparks down Steve’s skin in inappropriate ways, tingling and sensitive at the subtle once-over he earns from the unfairly attractive stranger. 

“You’ve been staring at this for ten minutes,” the stranger says amusedly, mouth curling up into a devastating smirk Steve really wishes he hadn’t seen in such a public venue. “You’re either completely lost, or you really like that piece. Seeing as you’ve made a stop at every other Steve Rogers’ piece in the gallery, I’m assuming you’re a fan of his work.”

“Ah, well, that is,” Steve stammers, feeling ridiculously hot under the collar and reaching to adjust it, a flush creeping over his cheeks while he tries to pull himself together and figure out what to say without looking extremely narcissistic or idiotic, eyes darting over the painting in front of them for some kind of saving grace. “I’m...invested in his work, you could say.”

“Is that so?” the stranger hums, eyes drifting to the painting as well, Steve stuck on the sight of his silver hair glowing in the light and his adam’s apple bobbing while the wine glass is emptied of another mouthful. 

Throat dry himself, Steve suddenly wishes desperately that he’d gotten himself some wine before this and tries not to ogle too obviously at the deeply tempting picture of gleaming hair and a well-muscled body underneath the silky black suit, fashionable tie highlighting the spread of a slim throat and ass the kind of thing Steve imagines in his best dreams. He’s a work of art, dressed to the nines in a suit that Steve knows cost more than his apartment, a metalwork twisting and glowing in the midst of this hall of people that draws Steve in closer with the kind of siren allure they used to warn sailors about. 

If Bucky or Sam saw him right now they’d be laughing their asses off at him for being such a horndog.

“Would you happen to be one of his muses, then?” the stranger inquires, turning to face Steve again and smiling. “I heard he had special inspiration for this particular collection, but I’d never heard anyone mention if it was a person.”

Laughing despite the simmering want warming him from the inside out, Steve smiles back and tucks his hands into his slacks, catching the flare of interest in the face watching him as his muscles stretch out the fabric of his best shirt and feeling inordinately pleased. 

“He did, actually, but how did you happen to hear that?” Steve asks, fully aware that he hasn’t done an interview about his art in years and intrigued by how this complete stranger could know something about Steve even some of his friends didn’t. 

“The art curator is a wonderful brunchmate,” Mr. Handsome laughs with a swirl of deep wine in his glass, Steve feeling his face slacken in surprise despite himself. 

“You know Pepper?” 

If Steve knew Pepper had such attractive friends, he would have agreed to her setting him up with someone a long time ago. It wasn’t that often he met a man handsome enough to make angels weep who had class and a good personality, something he knows Pepper would never have entered a friendship without; someone up above was clearly looking out for Steve. 

“I’d like to think so, seeing as I’m her best friend,” Handsome Stranger says with a twinkle in his gorgeous eyes, smile soft with fondness before dialing up once more to a dazzling intensity that nearly blinds Steve.

“Tony Stark,” he introduces himself, hand wrapping around Steve’s in a firm hold that makes him itch for something more intimate, his flash of white teeth somehow inviting and predatory at the same time. “Call me Tony, please.”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve replies, smirk curling at his lips at the look of surprise it earns him, the barking laugh following it all the more satisfying. “Steve is fine, Tony.”

“I guess that answers how you know Pepper,” Tony says amusedly, eyes sliding away from Steve to the room at large for a moment before he seems to come to a decision of sorts. Gracefully finishing the last of his wine, Tony gestures for a server to take his glass and thanks them kindly before turning his full attention to Steve, something wild and thrilling burning in his electric blue eyes that makes him look like some kind of silver-dipped god, gleaming and powerful and much too seductive for any mortal to resist. 

“Well, Steve,” Tony hums with a wicked lift to his lips and a cock of his head full of shimmering hair just begging for hands to run through it, “I think I’ve seen everything I need to here-would you like to head out with me to somewhere a little less...populated?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Steve just barely manages not to let out in a weak breath, pulling himself together to offer a devilish grin in return, following him outside of the gallery showroom and into a hallway that leads to the back of the building. 

The second they round the corner into the restricted area and the bustle of the gallery is far behind them, firm hands push him into the wall and cause the air to stutter out of his lungs, full lips pressing against his and making way for a hot tongue to do filthy things to his insides, his broad artist’s hands automatically moving up to clutch around a tan neck. 

“Christ, you’re a good kisser,” Steve whispers when they break apart for air, feeling like the floor’s been pulled out from underneath him and dropped him straight into a fire of roaring want, stomach cramping with lust and legs weak from underneath him; he leans in for another heated kiss that invites him to think of every dirty, wicked thing he could possibly want in order to make them a reality, Tony’s hands slipping from his hips to his ass and squeezing hard enough to force a gasp out of Steve. 

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life, my God,” Tony moans hoarsely, pressing wet kisses down Steve’s throat and sucking into his collarbone with a determination befitting a soldier and not a man who wears clothes more expensive than most of the buildings Steve’s walked in. 

“Me? Have you taken a look in the mirror recently?” Steve laughs breathlessly, exposing his neck further to give Tony more room to work with and scrambling to shove his blazer off, hands drifting up to hold onto the hairs he’d so admired when Tony sucks hard enough to leave him panting achingly. “The first thing I thought about when I saw you was how much I wanted to run my hands through your hair and bring you down to your knees, Mr. Tony Stark with his silver hair and fancy suits and stupidly handsome smile.”

“Oh, darling, I’d go down on my knees anytime for someone as gorgeous as you,” Tony promises fervently, hands unbuckling Steve’s belt in a matter of seconds as he slips down and does just as he promised. 

Groaning at the sight below him and trying not to shake too obviously, Steve holds onto silver locks with trembling hands and knows he won’t last long. 

An hour later, after they’ve both come down from their highs and cleaned up as best as they can, the slightest limp to Steve’s gait, Tony climbs into the car behind Steve and lets his head fall against a broad shoulder, smile soft and warm in the passing streetlights. 

“You really like the hair?” Tony asks a bit self-consciously, Steve managing a tired laugh that’s no less loving or affectionate, a hand coming up to rub at gleaming strands with a lazy fascination. 

“What part of ‘it’s the sexiest shit I’ve ever seen’ did you not get?” Steve teases, pressing a kiss to Tony’s temple when he grumbles slightly and continuing to run soothing circles onto his head, unable to keep himself from touching Tony after his two month long trip to Beijing.

“I can’t help it, darling, I’m vain,” Tony complains, his smile hidden in the dark of the car while Steve nods honestly. 

“With looks like yours? I’d hope so,” Steve answers as if he can hardly imagine the thought of someone not considering his husband attractive, Tony chuckling despite himself and looking up to meet Steve’s eyes. 

“At least we managed to pull off your sugar daddy art sponsor scene decently because of it,” Tony acknowledges, setting off a deep laugh that reverberates through Steve’s chest and into Tony in the best way. 

“Sweetheart, the only reason I didn’t tackle you the second I saw you in the room looking like that was because I wanted to try to hold back and act it out properly,” Steve shakes his head, his voice ringing true as a bell in the car and surprising Tony. “If there hadn’t been so many people around, I’d have had you on the floor in a flat second.”

“You missed me that much while I was gone?” Tony cooes, smile twitching into something sappy and heart-stained, chest a warm burbling swirl of bright affection. 

“Of course I did, my love,” Steve says warmly, lips soft against Tony’s as he kisses him slow and sweet, both hands coming up to frame Tony’s face and hold him gently. “But mostly you’re the most gorgeous silver fox I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Bursting into laughter once more, Tony kisses him back and slips his hand into Steve’s, hot and dry and resting in Steve’s lap as they trade honeyed kisses all the way home. 

“I’m home,” Tony whispers against Steve’s lips as they pull into the mansion, feeling a smile against his cheek as Steve nuzzles his and whispers back, “Welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was a gift fic for my love [@roberldowneyjr](https://roberldowneyjr.tumblr.com) on tumblr that i'm finally posting here!! you guys are super welcome to drop by her AMAZING blog or come chat w me about marvel/stony [@shell-heads](https://shell-heads.tumblr.com)


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